The sun was setting. I could not win. I had collected all the golden hues of the sun in the lofty pine.I gathered them to brighten up this breaking heart of mine. I embraced them in the fading light of day.This was my hour of contemplation…Yet, I wanted to go out to play.The snow was piling deeper around the cabin door .I want to go run to the bear`s den. I longed to hear him snore.
Should I gather up the courage? Bundle up in many layers? I need to get moving daylight was almost gone. I needed to press on. The victory over winter’s length was hardly won.So I went in my imagination…to the great cupboard door. Gathered up the fancy shot-taffata gown that I had worn fifty years before. It’s greens, blues and purples sparkled in the setting sun.
I could not reach my fancy bonnet, I had stored it away too far. So I reach, into the darkening sky…Then I stole the evening star.
I had intended to wear it in my hair. I held in my lap. It held me in its glow. The glow went everywhere. It reached into my broken places that I had yet to know. It turned, it sparkled, and danced so bright! It filled me with hope and desire. The light that it contained was for me A holy cleansing fire.
I began to sing in tune. Evening star, please don`t come too soon. I have not set my mission. I am yet too weak to serve. The star raced within me still, through the dark places.
In some it hit a nerve. It shone into me
divine love and compassion.
It vibrated more and more.
My cabin fever and pity pot
A purple moon-beam shone through the window.
I reckoned my thanks to the departing star.This Soul wears a smile of laughter, now, As I strum on my guitar.